


Lost and Found

by Angelica_writes



Series: Imagines [8]
Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Post canon, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28039062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelica_writes/pseuds/Angelica_writes
Summary: Skip's idea to propose on Christmas Day doesn't quite go to plan.
Relationships: Skip Muck/Reader, Skip Muck/You
Series: Imagines [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1999741
Kudos: 5





	Lost and Found

“Malark, Jesus Christ, Don, you have to help me,” Skip’s words came out garbled but hushed down the phone, and Malarkey struggled to make sense of them. 

“What is it, Skip?” 

“I’ve only gone and lost the ring. I’m meant to propose to her  _ now  _ and I’ve lost the fucking ring,” Skip sounded desperate. Malarkey knew that his friend had been planning the proposal all autumn, he wanted it to be perfect for Christmas Day. 

“Where did you last see it?” Malarkey sighed. Skip was always losing stuff, only for it to turn up in the stupidest places. 

“In my sock drawer. I’ve searched inside all the damn socks, I tipped the entire drawer on the floor. I looked in all the other drawers, I looked everywhere I can think of Don, and I can’t find it,” Skip huffed, and then panicked when he heard you calling him. “Shit, she’s calling me, I gotta go, I’ll call you back,” Skip put down the phone before his friend could say another word. 

Skip practically sprinted to your living room, and grinned when he saw you on the sofa wearing his shirt, even though it was a sight he’d seen hundreds of times before. However, his grin fell when he noticed what was on your feet. A pair of  _ his  _ socks. 

“Are they… my socks?” He stuttered, pointing in disbelief at your cosy feet. 

“I didn’t think you’d mind. I was all out of fluffy socks,” you grinned playfully, but your face fell as he continued to look blank. “I’ll take them off if you want me to,” you huffed. 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Skip replied. Now he was confused. Surely you must be responsible for the missing ring, where else could it be? But why hadn’t you let on that you’d seen it, and why had you taken it? Skip sat next to you silently, putting his arm around you as he searched the corners of his brain for an explanation to this puzzle. 

“Warren,” you started, and Skip turned to face you, paying full attention. You only ever called him Warren when you were mad at him or when something was wrong. He just gulped and nodded. “I have something to ask you.” You took his hand gently in yours, rubbing the smooth skin with your thumb. “You’ve lit up my life more than that darn Christmas tree,” you motioned to the tree across the room, almost every inch of which was covered in multicoloured lights, at Skip’s insistence. “I love you so much, and I want to spend my life with you. Warren Muck, will you marry me?” You pulled a small box out from under a cushion and presented it to him. Skip stared at you for a few moments, unable to process what he was hearing. Never in his wildest, most wonderful dreams did he imagine that  _ you  _ would ever propose to  _ him _ . 

Eventually, his shaking hands took the box from you and prised it open, and he took the ring in his trembling fingers. It was a simple silver band, but he noticed inside there was an inscription - ‘you’re my paper doll’. He looked at you, and tears were falling down his cheeks, his usual cheeky grin replaced by one even more heartfelt. 

“I… I was gonna ask you,” he eventually choked out. 

“I know,” you giggled. “I found the ring when I got out these socks, and I’m glad I did, because I was so desperate to propose to you, Skip Muck. Now answer me!” 

“Yes! Yes of course I’ll marry you. I can’t wait to call you Mrs Muck,” his lip still trembled slightly and his gaze was filled with such adoration that you wondered how you got so lucky. 

“I think you mean that you’ll be Mr Y/L/N,” you grinned as you placed the ring on his finger, and then you dug the other box out from behind the cushion. He placed the ring he’d bought you shakily onto your finger, and you leaned in to press a kiss onto his lips, a kiss filled with the type of deep, all-consuming, unbreakable love that comes only rarely, but when it does it’s the most wonderful thing in the world. 


End file.
